


your shoulder bare and staring me down

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Xeno, idk if hes an alien and i take the time to describe his alien attributes do i need the xeno tag??, idk man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 06:11:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14490546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Are...are you offering to give me a back rub?”“Did I not say that?” Slav asks, sounding genuinely curious. “But yes, that is what I am suggesting. I’ve done extensive studying in acupressure- or at least, in one of my realities I have- so I’m sure I will be of much help to you. Now come along.”





	your shoulder bare and staring me down

**Author's Note:**

> lmao I wrote this last year avoiding geo homework and then someone mentioned slav giving good massages the other day and I suddenly remembered I made a fic about that very thing:3 its unedited but I hope u who are as thirsty for shlav content as me will enjoy as best you can♡ 
> 
> -  
> title is from the song warm blood by flor

Shiro rubs at the small of his back absently, his other hand holding the tablet that his eyes are glued to as he reviews group drills and mission feedbacks. He’d sit, but reading for a long time, and therefore sitting for a long time, makes him antsy. Before Kerberos, he actually enjoyed reading in his downtime, curling up with a good book and tea, maybe while it was raining out and he’d sit by the window in his dorm.

Now if he’s resting it’s for short periods of much needed sleep before he’s up again, pushing himself to do something useful because he’s forgotten how to rest without anxiety creeping through every pore, screaming at him to be useful, be prepared, be ready, move, move, move.

When his eyes start to dry, he stops rubbing his back to rub at his eyes, dropping the tablet to his side and sighing.

“Is your back bothering you?”

The sudden voice has Shiro jolting in surprise, Galra arm raising in defense for a moment before he calms himself at the sight of the Castle’s newest inhabitant. “I didn’t hear you come in,” Shiro says, subtly apologizing for his defensive stance.

Slav is curled around the back of a chair at the dining table (how long has he been in here? Or is the better question when did Shiro wander in here because he could have sworn he was reading in the lounge area moments ago…), resting his upperhalf on his forearms, looking bored. “You seem tense,” he says, which is an understatement. “You need to be keeping yourself limber and well-rested if we are to have any luck at beating the Galra, you know.”

Shiro resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

“If you are fatigue during a battle, the chances of your team’s survival drop to a mere 70%! And if you’re physically compromised, it lowers significantly!” Slav’s bored expression turns tentative, one pair of hands wringing nervously at the statistics. “That won’t do, at all, oh no.”

“Great talk, Slav,” Shiro sighs, really not in the mood for Slav’s doom and gloom mathematics.

“Wait, wait!” The alien slinks out of the chair quickly and adjusts it so it’s turned at a 90 degree angle towards the table before he approaches Shiro. “You were rubbing your back a moment ago so either your muscles are sore or you have a terrible relathion rash from pesky Relma bugs!”

Shiro frowns, “I don’t have a rash.”

“Oh, good,” Slav seems to relax a little. “Those rashes are contagious you know and I’m still not sure if this is the reality in which I’ve built an immunity to them. So it must be the other thing.”

“A back ache?” Shiro shrugs. “Maybe but I get those a lot. You know, from fighting Galra all the time?” He means for a reassuring smile and says, “It’s not a big deal. I’ll probably sleep it off.”

“You have a sleeping position that will relax your back muscles and restore you to proper health by morning?” Slav asks, middle pair of hands on his, er, hip area. He sounds mildly accusatory, like he’s about to chastise Shiro for not knowing how to properly sleep off a back ache.

“Uh, I guess I could sleep on my stomach,” he tries.

Slav disagrees.

“No, no, this won’t do. I won’t fall into Galra hands again and if you’re not in prime condition, our chances are slimmer than usual!” All eight pairs of his hands remove themselves from their pockets so that he can crack his knuckles at the same time. “Let us go to your quarters and I’ll fix you right up!”

Shiro feels his face heat up at the suggestion. “Are...are you offering to give me a back rub?”

“Did I not say that?” Slav asks, sounding genuinely curious. “But yes, that is what I am suggesting. I’ve done extensive studying in acupressure- or at least, in one of my realities I have- so I’m sure I will be of much help to you. Now come along.”

He’s already walking towards the sleeping quarters before Shiro can summon a response and he has to lightly jog to catch up. “Uh, this is really not necessary,” he tells the scientist. “I appreciate the offer, but, um, I just don’t-”

“Nonsense,” Slav brushes off his unvoiced concerns, keeping his determined stride. “It’s no trouble at all and it will better ensure our chances of defeating those bloodthirsty Galra. If you’re not going to take my suggestion for a second robot arm then the least you can do is keep yourself in good health.”

In a weird way, it sounds like Slav is concerned for him, but Shiro’s not entirely sure it’s a personal thing. He probably just wants to be over this war as much as anyone else and Shiro being safe must make the statistics look pretty good.

Despite the burning of his cheeks, Shiro concedes defeat and walks somewhat next to Slav as they make their way to his room in silence. When they make it to his bare little corner of the castle, Slav wastes no time. “Alright,” he says, cracking all eight pairs of his knuckles once more, “undress.”

Shiro really does choke now. “W-what? No, I’m not undressing.”

“I can’t properly work your muscles with your clothing in the way!” Slav argues, beak twitching in irritation.

“I- ugh, fine, just my shirt though.”

“You don’t want me to massage your whole body?” Slav asks, following him to his bed.

“Ugh, please,” Shiro is sure his face must be beet read. Jeeze, he hasn’t been this nervous and flustered in the bedroom since high school. “Just…keep it above the waist, please.”

The scientist shrugs. “If you say so. Do you have lotion, perchance?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Shiro kneels to open the drawer connected to his bed and brings out a small bottle Allura had gave him when he started getting blisters on his left hand from training. Though his right arm is an advanced weapon, he still feels the need to work up the muscles and technique of his human arm, just in case.

After he hands it to Slav, he tries to calm the sudden erratic beating of his heart as he removes his shirt. He hasn’t been shirtless in front of anyone in a while. Mostly, there just hasn’t been a need and he’s surrounded by a bunch of teenagers and a princess, so he just feels it would be sort of inappropriate. He’s also still a bit new to this Galra arm and how it sticks out against the group of humanoids. He’s not embarrassed or ashamed, really, it’s just a reminder of what he’s been through, what the Galra did to him and it becomes that much more apparent against the fleshy two arms of his teammates.

“Alright, on your stomach,” Slav orders, successfully flustering Shiro further.

He tries not to think about how weird it is—or rather, how weird it really isn’t that Slav, an eight armed, beaked alien genius, is about to give him a topless massage in his bed.

It’s thoughtful, in its own way, and Shiro can’t help but appreciate the gesture.

Shiro has to bury his face into his arms, hiding his abash when Slav settles himself onto the bed too, so as to have the easiest access to his back. He holds his breath as he waits for the feel of cold, scaley hands on his skin but it never comes.

He really doesn’t expect the first touch to feel as good as it does, especially with Slav’s hands (two pairs of them at the moment) being small and, well, not human. But, oh, it does.

Or, maybe, it really has just been that long since Shiro’s been touched so gently. He hasn’t thought about that in a while either…

“Can you feel pressure here?” Slav asks, one pair kneading just beneath his shoulder blades and the other on either side at the middle part of his back.

“Y-yeah,” Shiro says, forcing himself not to sigh at the surprisingly relieving massaging. Holy crap, his hands aren’t cold at all and they’re actually quite soft, though perhaps the lotion has something to do with that. Each moment that he rubs forcefully at the taut muscles of Shiro’s back, he feels himself relax more and more as his shoulders droop and he practically melts into the bed. He doesn’t even realize his eyes are closed until they flutter back open at the soft touch of a third pair of hands gently massaging the back of his neck.

He just barely stops the embarrassing noise from tumbling out of his mouth. Shit, it’s been a really long time since he’s been touched, how did he not notice?

“I guess this actually is the reality where you studied acupressure,” Shiro says, breaking the quiet lull of Slav’s work.

“Possibly,” Slav agrees, sounding a little proud. “Maybe that means I this is also the reality where I learned proper acupuncture!”

At that, Shiro jolts a little, the thought of needles a frightening one even before Kerberos.

The scientist’s tone is bubbly, like Shiro hasn’t heard before, as he says, “Ha, I’m kidding! Or maybe I’m not but either way I have no intention of sticking you with needles.” He kneads a little harder on his back as he adds, “If needles could even get through these muscles, you’re more tense than a bobalin in hunting season!”

Shiro chuckles, hiding his smile into his pillow and allows himself to ease into the massage once again. “Well, it’s been a while since I’ve relaxed, I guess.”

“Of course,” Slav agrees above him, hands working fervently into his muscles. “But you know rest and recovery is just as healthy for the body as exercise and sleep.”

“Yeah,” Shiro sighs at the thought. “It’s just hard to- well, nevermind.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing, it’s just something I have to figure out I guess.”

Slav is quiet for a long while, tending to Shiro’s taut muscles until their tangibly more relaxed, more pliable beneath his fingers. Faded scars of varying size and severity litter his back, some reminiscent of Slav’s own experiences. There’s one painting Shiro’s shoulder that makes the one just under Slav’s third left arm burn at the memory.

“It’s a process,” Slav says suddenly, and Shiro hadn’t realized he’d nearly fallen asleep until his voice breaks the quiet.

“What?”

“Recovering,” Slav answers simply. “It’s no easy task but it isn’t impossible.”

Shiro considers the thought, adjusting his head over his arms when he starts to feel them falling asleep. “What about you?” He asks, hoping he’s not crossing a line.

Slav gives a vague hum, two pairs of hands dropping down to where Shiro’s back had been really aching earlier and massaging there. “I estimate a six year recovery period post war time,” he says, but for once, the math doesn’t sound convincing. “But maybe I’m in the reality where I recover much faster.”

“What if,” Shiro frowns at the thought, “what if you never recover?”

“You will,” Slav assures, seeing right through the query. “You have good friends here to help you, which raises the chances significantly. Perhaps once you go back to your home planet, it will speed the process much more too.”

“Will you go back to your home?” Shiro asks.

“If there’s anything left.”

Shiro’s stomach flips, sympathy and some guilt sinking deep. “I’m sorry that they took that from you,” he says softly.

One of Slav’s hands that had been rubbing over his shoulder blades grazes over the metal of his bicep, “I’m sorry for what they took from you as well.”

And, Shiro realizes, for the first time in a long, long time, he doesn’t feel so alone anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> lol can't believe I wrote this nonsense but here we are. Thank you for reading!! ♡♡♡


End file.
